ITALIAN VOICES

I have just spent the entire afternoon dumping the contents of my drawers into cardboard boxes. I found them crushed on aisle seven at the Coop this morning and spent the better part of an hour trying to tape them into …

During my Venetian years, I lived in a crumbling, 16th-century apartment whose best ‘room’ was the terrace on the top floor. I was up there one afternoon mopping— something I did on rare occasions for the sole purpose of keeping my …

Martina and I piled into an already crowded café in hopes of a corner table. Once a month we meet there to talk, sip cappuccino, and perhaps jot a line or two in our 'Be Bohemian’ notebooks. We were actually both …

Giorgio Moro was admittedly very relieved to be walking me home. The night had been a terrible bore, he said. Unfortunately, I couldn’t really deny it. I had spent our entire dinner picking his brain for an Italian expression that might …

It’s Tuesday—the day we put the newspaper to bed. And yes, since the entire staff has spent the last few weeks boldly courting summer, we are surprised that the paper is already pushing so hard to hatch. On most days, we …

Italians are not too good at worrying about the future, but they do enjoy expressing relief when the future turns out much better than planned. In Italy, that means most of the time. The phrase meno male, literally translated as ‘less …

My mother says that if you really hate something, the best thing to do is spend time with it. Once enough hours have passed, it will become your friend. Spend time with your enemies and you will develop empathy for them. …

Lunch at Lola’s is a true taste of Tuscan theatre. Everyday, my colleagues and I squeeze in the door at half past twelve in efforts to beat our neighbours to the corner table. The menu is written on a paper place-mat …

It’s Monday night and I’m desperate for a word. The rest of the world is out watching the World Cup on the big screen. Italy is playing tonight and everyone else knows the word they are looking for. If they find …

In Italy, a best friend is known as a ‘heart friend’ and my amico del cuore is called Giorgio Moro. Although this is not top secret information, I do have some qualms about using his full name in this article. Any …

The morning of the election results I purposely avoided turning on the news. There was really no need. The state of Italy’s political future would be written on the barman’s face. I would know the results by the wrinkles on Maurizio’s …

I have a good friend who assigns animals to everyone she meets. I, on the other hand, am partial to fictitious characters. I currently work with four Italian men. In my mind’s eye, they are the Wizard, the Scarecrow, the Tin …

Italy’s normally salty prices get torn to shreds when sales season comes. From prezzi salati to prezzi stracciati, when prices are shredded, it’s time to go shopping. The country waits on bated breath as the stores mark down and the people …

I think I have a rare language disease. My symptoms most often show themselves at fancy dinner parties where everyone is wearing black. Somehow, understated elegance brings out all of my quirky linguistic hang-ups. At the very first lull in conversation, …